


Office Days

by TheMetaphysical



Series: allbam prompts [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Writer Park Jinyoung | Jr., Yugyeom too, also a bit of a coke fiend, bambam versus the writing department, bb is kinda pompous then humbled, color theory elitist bambam, fashion freak bambam, friendly yugbam, germaphobe jinyoung, he could care less about any of this, they work at a magazine publishing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:13:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMetaphysical/pseuds/TheMetaphysical
Summary: Bambam is sick and has no tissue to sneeze into, but Jinyoung comes to his rescue.(Not crack, even though this summary makes it seem like it is.)





	Office Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allbam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allbam/gifts).



> This was written from a prompt by allbam (all-bam on tumblr), home of the best got7 prompts imo.

_Fuck_ , Bambam thought as he wiped his runny nose for what felt like the fortieth time that day. He shouldn’t have gone partying in that rooftop lounge last night. But Yugyeom was so convincing, and the coke he promised sounded so pure. He just couldn’t say no.

It was just his luck that it happened to be raining all night until he got home at 6 am. And he was on such a bender that weekend that he hadn’t even noticed the rain until he had gotten inside and sobered up. He was soaked to the bone, and even a hot shower and every herb and remedy imaginable wasn’t enough to erase the hell he had put his body through this weekend.

This cold was his body’s revenge.

An intern had dropped off a bunch of photo samples Bambam had to sort through for the upcoming spread on spring trends. It was work he usually didn’t mind on a Thursday or Friday after his body had healed from his weekend rendezvous’, but right now, when he wanted more than anything to cut his own head off, it was torture. Was it bad that this was a typical Monday?

Bambam was supposed to drop these samples off for review from his boss, but they were renovating her office, so she was in a different part of the building. _Floor 3_ , he punched the button in the elevator, then bitterly recalled that this was the writer’s floor where all the recent college grads with degrees in writing and English were stationed alongside the geezers with thick prescription glasses who probably didn’t know the difference between a day cream and a night cream.

Bambam was sorely reminded why he hated this floor when he saw that almost everyone wore a frumpy brown sweater that looked like it was stolen from their grandmother’s closet.

He tried to erase from his mind the quick and unsatisfying survey of everyone in the area when he felt his nose drip and a sneeze coming on. _Shit!_ All his tissues were on his desk, and the closest one sat on a desk 25 feet away. He wouldn’t make it in time, and this sneeze was too powerful to be stopped.

Something was going to get harmed in the snot blast ready to shoot from his nose, and Bambam was praying it wasn’t his new $200 Miu Miu dress shirt or Louboutin loafers.

The only thing that could be worse is if the samples got ruined and he had to explain to his boss how he got sick.

His hands were the only thing he could rely on in this time of need. Using his right hand to hold the folder of samples behind his back, he held up the ringed fingers of his left hand to catch the blow. Only, when the sneeze escaped, he didn’t feel his hand get wet with snot.

Bambam opened his eyes, the worst part over. He saw, in his hand, a handkerchief, and not just a handkerchief, but a vintage Hermes one. From whom? It certainly couldn’t be any tasteless shmuck from the writing department.

Bambam looked up, still holding the handkerchief to his nose, at the man who had saved him.

“You looked like you needed it.” He smiled warmly, and it was enough to shatter Bambam’s ice heart for the writing department. Bambam noticed his clothes first. He wore a sweater, cream and ribbed with a blue pinstripe dress shirt and red tie underneath. His slacks were navy and his balmoral shoes pale brown, leather to the trained eye, _not_ plastic. Lifting his head an inch, Bambam could see he had a handsome, manly face, a decent haircut, and thick, black, horn-rimmed glasses. He was like a nautical nerd from a Tommy Hilfiger campaign.

And for a split second, when their eyes connected and the stranger popped a smile, Bambam reevaluated all his bad decisions until this point and considered cleaning up for this nerd.

The elevator dinged and the man stepped inside, calling over his shoulder, “hope you feel better.”

The elevator doors closed and Bambam remained where he stood. It was almost like his headache had gone away... _Ow, damn._ No, it was still there. He sighed. As impressive as that guy was, who could miss those glasses thicker than a vogue September issue? He was undoubtedly from the writing department.

 

As Bambam gave his weekly spiel to Yugyeom about getting sick and being dragged into another bender with him, he also explained how he might have fallen for the hot manager of the writing department.

“But you hate the writing department,” Yugyeom reminded him, over the Bluetooth in his car.

“I know!” Bambam screeched. “I don’t know what to do...I think he likes me. He gave me his Hermes handkerchief just for me to blow my nose.”

 

Jinyoung locked up his office, waving goodbye to his employees, and Lisa from photo editing upstairs, who was sharing his office space while hers was being renovated. He wistfully recalled the loss of his handkerchief today. He probably couldn’t accept it back from the boy, even if he had it dry cleaned. Too many germs. And at the thought of that, he opened up his glove compartment and squirted a drop of hand sanitizer into his palm.


End file.
